Gwennie: Did I say you could have a blog?
Me: I didn’t realize I needed your prior approval.
Gwennie: Of course you need my prior approval. I am, after all, the HCIC.
Me: HCIC?
Gwennie: House-Cat-In-Charge
Me: Did you just make that up?
Gwennie: Yes. Do you like it?
Me: Yes. It’s very cute.
Gwennie: Well, if you’re gonna blog then I wanna blog.
Me: Why don’t we share a blog?
Gwennie: Because I want my own blog.
Me: (Sigh) Okay. Can I share your blog with you?
Gwennie: If you must.
Me: What’s your niche gonna be?
Gwennie: My niche?
Me: Yeah. Your theme. Your thing?
Gwennie: I’m a cat.
Me: And?
Gwennie: And what? I’m a cat. That’s my thing.
Me: What should we call your blog?
Gwennie: I don’t know. Pet me.
Me: Pet me? That’s the title?
Gwennie: No. Pet me. As in, PET ME NOW!!!
Me: Oh sorry.
Gwennie: That’s alright.
Me: How about Diary of a Disgruntled Cat.
Gwennie: What’s disgruntled?
Me: It means cranky.
Gwennie: I’M NOT CRANKY!
Me: Okay. Okay. Be quiet. The baby is sleeping.
Gwennie: I am the baby. Oh. You mean the little thing.
Me: Yes. You know the little thing has a name.
Gwennie: Yes. He’s Momma’s Little Thing. That’s his name.
Me: Fine. People might think that Disgruntled is a funny reference for a cat’s blog.
Gwennie: Will they think I’m actually disgruntled?
(Pause)
(Pause)
Gwennie: Momma! Will they think I’m actually disgruntled?
Me: Only the people who know you.
Gwennie: Oh. Well that’s okay. Momma, your pen is running out of ink.
Me: I’m on it.
Gwennie: That’s better. Momma, why are you writing this on paper, anyway? Just type it into the pooter.
Me: The pooter?
Gwennie: Yes, the pooter.
Me: What’s the pooter?
Gwennie: The pooter, Momma! The pooter! The thing with the buttons that make a clicking sound when you push them. It’s just like the one you had in Kansas City. Remember? I chewed a couple of buttons off of that one.
Me: Oh! You mean the computer.
Gwennie: That’s what I said. The pooter.
Me: Speaking of which, I never did find the F7 button.
Gwennie: Not my fault. I didn’t do it.
Me: You just said you did.
Gwennie: Nope. Couldn’t have been me. I didn’t do it.
Me: (Long sigh) To answer your question, the computer is charging and I like to write everything on paper first and then type it up.
Gwennie: Sounds like a whole lot of work if you ask me.
Me: Well, I didn’t ask you.
Gwennie: You should have. I am the HCIC.
Me: So you keep telling me. Have we settled on Diary of a Disgruntled Cat for your post title?
Gwennie: Yes, that’s acceptable. Do you really have to share my blog with me? What if I get rich and famous? Then can I have my own blog?
Me: If your posts get you rich and famous then, yes, you can have your own blog.
Gwennie: We could still share if I get famous but then you’d have to pay me loyalties to use my blog.
Me: Loyalties? Oh you mean royalties.
Gwennie: Loyalties. Royalties. Whatever, momma! You need to remember that I’m only three years old. I think I have an exceptional vocabulary for a three year old.
Me: Yes, I’d have to say for a three year old cat, you do have an exceptional vocabulary.
Gwennie: Thank you, Momma.
Me: You’re welcome, Gwennie.
